Regret
by lancemclame
Summary: Keith's point of view in the moments before crashing through the barrier of the galra ship, and what comes after.
1. Chapter 1

Regret is a taste bitter in his mouth. At this point it's difficult to pinpoint what exactly he regrets the most; not saying an honest goodbye, not calling more often, not telling them how he cares when he was still a part of _them_ , or maybe just leaving in the first place. He imagines how those conversations would go, in the cold nights after. The things he'd say to each of them in turn.

 _Pidge, I know you must think I'm an awful hypocrite after getting so mad at you for even thinking of leaving before. I hope you won't hold it against me though, I knew even then that we couldn't lose you. I'm not the best with words, but you should know that I think you're incredible, and talented, and so strong. I'm so proud of the hero you've grown into, the hero you've always been, I guess. Goodbye._

 _Hunk, your kindness and generosity truly amazes me every single day. I'll admit, it was a little jarring for me the first time I was on the receiving end of your open affection, the small considerate things you do for us all. In a good way, of course. And on top of that, you've also got such a powerful mind, you're a skilled fighter and pilot, and despite everything you're so brave. I admire you, big guy. Goodbye._

 _Allura, we're so alike, and yet so different in so many ways. Our stubbornness and impulsiveness combined is probably dangerous, I think we've learned that the hard way if we're being honest. But beyond that, your determination, your leadership, your fighting spirit has really kept us all afloat since the beginning of this. Thank you for keeping me on track when my temper might have gotten out of hand. You're an inspiration, truly, and not to mention a good friend. Goodbye._

 _Shiro, for the longest time you've been my only family. I'm happy to say now the number I consider family has grown, but I'll never be able to thank you enough for always being there for me. All this time in space has made you ripped as hell, and yet somehow, the biggest muscle you have is still your heart. You've taken us cadets under your wing and lead us all through battles and trials we never could have imagined. Thank you for being my brother. Goodbye._

 _Lance,_

Well, Lance was a different ball game altogether. He'd imagined how it would go a million times over, almost always way too self-indulgent.

 _Lance, I want to start by saying thank you. For supporting me, and keeping me afloat when I needed it most. For keeping the team afloat when I couldn't do it alone. You were my right hand, and I can't express how grateful I am for that._

"What do you mean _were,_ mullet? You can't shake me that easily, no matter where you head off to or what exclusive and secret organisation you join. I'll always be your second."

Lance is never one to stay silent, not even in Keith's head. He's vocal and unashamed of what he's got to say. Keith envies him for it.

 _I think you're my first honestly. About 90% of my decisions would have ended in disaster if you weren't there._ He cracks a grin at this, ocean blue eyes warm and undeniably fond. _I don't just mean on the battlefield either. I've never been great at connecting with people, but you made it feel easy. Inevitable really. You drew me in, right from the start, riling me up and making me part of this as though it was simple. I could be immature, and competitive, and laugh, and just have fun with you, with your joking and bickering. We were a good team, don't you think? I'll miss you a lot._

"You don't have to go, you know. I mean you could stay here with me, with us."

He seems to read something in Keith's expression, taking his silence for an answer. Keith can barely even bring himself to imagine what he must look like in this moment, vulnerable, determined yet hurting.

"Okay." Lance says in a low tone, soothing and yet melancholy, resigned "You better come back to us though."

And with that, he reaches out to pull Keith into a swift embrace. He's entirely wrapped up in Lance's frame, taking a few moments just to process being hugged before slowly bringing his own arms up to reciprocate. His fingers intertwine with the familiar green jacket, burying his face into the space between shoulder and neck. They fit together like puzzle pieces, nothing has ever felt more like coming home for Keith. A word crosses his mind in that moment, stronger than friendship, filling him up and practically pouring out of his chest. And yet he says nothing, content to bask in this moment. To burn every detail into his mind permanently, and forget for a minute that this is goodbye.

This is what he regrets the most; not having enough time to say goodbye at the end. Because it is the end, for Keith at least. He sees the galra battleship, with the _almost_ impenetrable shield, and realises with a detached sort of irony that he and the ship have that in common at least. It's fitting, he thinks, that he should go down like this, but it doesn't stop him hating those walls in this moment. He wishes he had allowed himself to be more open to his team, his family.

"Goodbye, everyone" he mutters to an empty ship, thrusting forward with his hands and gearing it into as high a speed as is possible. It feels natural, zooming as fast as he can go through the open space. He had always loved piloting, loved it even more when he met Red. No one could go as fast as her, no thrill could compare to the elated feeling of soaring past solar systems from her cockpit.

"Bye, Lance. Take care of Red for me." He lets out at barely a whisper, knowing that he won't be heard; Keith is alone. At least he knows this is the one message that doesn't need to be said. Lance would care for Red regardless of whether or not Keith was there to tell him. It's what he does. The only thing Keith does is leave. Leave the garrison. Leave earth. Leave the team.

 _Time to leave._

He squeezes his eyes shut, seconds away from hitting his target. He doesn't have it in him to face the end straight on, otherwise he just might lose his nerve, swerve away at the last second. And that's not an option right now. His heart is pounding furiously, as though trying to live out the rest of its lifespan in the moments before it's all over.

Keith braces for impact.


	2. Chapter 2

It's strange how much the lack of collision manages to feel just like a physical blow.

He had survived, by some insane stroke of luck he was alive, and the team was saved. It felt like cheating somehow; he was supposed to die. He was supposed to die _for them._ No one knew it though. Lotor came to the ship, which meant Keith started staying there too. There was a distant comfort in coming home, but not one he could focus on right now. He felt like a ghost wandering the halls, returning to his bedroom late at night like he had before. Everything is cold and far away.

Lance is the first to notice something had changed. Shiro and Allura had their hands full with negotiations and their unexpected guest. Pidge, Hunk, and Matt had been working almost non-stop on repairs and upgrades. Of course, they had all been overjoyed at Keith's return, but after the initial welcome they are back to business as usual and he is mostly left to his own devices. He doesn't mind it much, isn't too sure he could stomach having to look them in the eye and pretend everything is fine when he feels so hollow. It's meal times that are the hardest. They always manage to find the time to sit down and eat together, the one routine they stick to religiously every single day. If someone is missing from dinner they may as well have gone to sign up as Zarkon's right hand man, it was regarded as a personal betrayal of the group. Keith barely manages to force down his food with the unspoken words crawling up from inside his chest and threatening to choke him.

"Hey Keith, wait up!" he hears Lance call out from behind him after one such dinner. He dutifully stops, turning and pausing for him to catch up.

"Everything okay?" Keith asks, a little caught off guard at being stopped. Usually he was able to make a hasty retreat to his room after eating a socially acceptable amount of food without much interference.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Lance responds, falling into step with Keith as he continues down the hall "you seemed a little off at dinner tonight."

"Oh," Keith is dumbstruck for a moment, brain whirring as he tries to process the best response in this situation. His first instinct is to lie, to continue pretending that he's okay. He hadn't expected anyone to notice the internal conflict he had been facing since that final battle.

"I'm okay, I guess. Just tired?" it sounds unconvincing, even to his own ears.

"You sure, man?" he sounds doubtful, genuine concern now plain on his face.

"Uh- yeah. I'm sure." Keith doesn't know when he became such a bad liar. He doesn't even know why he's lying in the first place; all he has thought about since the battle is the things he should have done, the things he should have said. Now, here he was with a golden opportunity to get this all off his chest and he was throwing it away.

"Look, it's obvious something is wrong. I guess you don't want to talk to me about it, but promise me you'll talk to someone? I can go get Shiro, or Allura, or something?"

"Lance, thank you, really, but it's fine."

He looks conflicted for a moment, but ultimately decides to drop it for now "Hm, okay. Does it feel good to be back on the ship? You haven't really told us what it was like when you were away."

Keith is simultaneously grateful and resentful of the transition into slightly lighter small talk. "It was cold. I guess the Blade of Mamora doesn't believe in central heating or something, I was literally always freezing on their base. I slept with like six blankets."

This earns a snort from Lance, sparking something in Keith he can't quite identify. "Wow, really? I bet that tiny impractical jacket of yours didn't do much to keep you warm either." He says, smiling playfully, nudging Keith in the side as they walk.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with my jacket!"

"Keith, buddy, it's literally not even half of a jacket. There's no way it has ever kept you warm, even once. You should try my jacket, much more practical."

"Come on then, hand it over." Keith jokingly demands, shocked when Lance actually starts to slip out of his signature jacket. He never fails to catch him off guard, constantly surprising Keith in seemingly every conversation they have. Part of him feels as though he should stop him, let him know that he wasn't serious, but he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't want the comfort of the warm and familiar jacket; Keith is weak, and tired, he doesn't quite have it in him to deny himself tonight.

Lance is smiling as Keith slips his arms through the sleeves "See? Much warmer, isn't it?"

Heat is definitely blooming in Keith, starting somewhere in his chest and washing through him like waves. All he can do is nod and agree as they fall back into step and continue down the hall. When they reach Keith's bedroom, just next door to Lance's, he expects him to ask for the jacket back. A small, childish part of him wants to dart inside and slam the door before he can, unwilling to part with it just yet. He doesn't get the chance to make his retreat, as Lance throws an arm round his shoulder, momentarily holding him rooted to the spot. It's only for a second or two, enveloping his frame and squeezing in a friendly gesture of affection.

"Goodnight, Keith." Lance says, voice soft and casual with a small smile as he walks on to his own room. As though he hadn't just set butterflies racing in Keith's stomach and left tingles running along his shoulder blades in every spot he had touched.

"Goodnight." He whispers back too late, Lance is already several feet away at this point. He hears him somehow, and turns so he's walking backwards for a few steps with a little wave just for Keith.

For a moment, Keith isn't thinking about what could have happened, what was supposed to happen in that final battle. For a moment, he isn't a dead man walking. He's just Keith, he's here, and he's okay. He walks into his room, not bothering to flick the light switch on as he heads straight for his bed. Since he had gotten back he'd avoided going to sleep as much as possible, scared of what the nightmares would bring. Tonight, he just wants to lay down.

He rolls onto his side, facing the wall that his bed is pressed against. He'll probably be too warm trying to sleep with Lance's jacket on, but he's entirely disinclined to take it off just yet. On the other side of this wall, Lance is there, jacketless. Not that he'd be wearing it right now. Keith can picture him, tucked up in bed with his bright blue pyjamas on. It's strange to think the only thing between them right now is a thin, beige wall, yet comforting nonetheless. When Keith closes his eyes, he can almost imagine that Lance is in here with him. He drifts off to sleep, breathing in everything _Lance_ that surrounds him.


End file.
